I am in love. But I hate him.

My heart races when he walks into the room. But maybe it’s just that the thought of him makes me want to vomit, and I’m trying to keep down my lunch.

He never shuts up about stupid stuff, giving me a headache. Or it could be that I love him so much it hurts.

When I pass him in the hallway, I duck my head and hide behind a curtain of hair. Is it so nobody sees the fiery blush that rises on my cheeks… or so I don’t have to see the face I so despise?

I talked to him today, grudgingly. Was it because I need to know if he’s my soulmate? Or was it a case of, “Keep your friends close…”?

I never know how to act around him. I never sit close to him. Maybe I like to admire him from afar. But maybe it’s because it’s much harder to strangle someone from six feet away…

So what is truth? What is a lie…?



The truth is, even I don’t know. Or maybe that’s the lie, a falsehood I’m trying to convince myself is fact.